


Fuel the Fire, Feed the Pain

by LaDemonessa



Series: The "Jen is Pissed" Collection [2]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: #bullshit, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-07
Updated: 2015-10-07
Packaged: 2018-03-10 23:05:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3306689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaDemonessa/pseuds/LaDemonessa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post episode 3x12 Uprising</p><p>Unable to deal with Oliver's bullshit over Malcolm Merlyn and his not so brilliant idea to team up with him, Felicity and Laurel bond over Monte Cristo's and  coffee.</p><p>Title borrowed from the lyrics of 'Angel' by Digital Daggers</p><p>I'm reposting this because of the season 4 premiere as a reminder of what we don't want to happen and to remind folks that a Laurel/Felicity friendship has a hell of a lot of potential as long as we keep our minds open to it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fuel the Fire, Feed the Pain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beviesteele](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beviesteele/gifts).



> (Note: This was originally written in the middle of season 3 but the sentiment still stands)
> 
> WARNING: RANT AHEAD; Enter At Your Own Risk:
> 
> That episode was some kind of bullshit, y'all. I'm not a Laurel fan, don't get me wrong, but compared to the way Oliver acted this week, I'm beginning to warm up to her. I cannot get over how fucked up this season has been thus far. What's worse are these stories that are cropping up where people actually think Felicity was wrong to stand her ground. Are you fucking kidding me? Seriously? How fucked in the head do you have to be to actually think that shit is romantic? I mean, come on! What the hell is wrong with you?
> 
> And no, I don't care if that pings your little feelings, girlfriend. Miss Jen does not give a fuck, okay? Save your little speeches about how Oliver and Felicity are meant to be and how she should silently suffer in misery until he finally gets his head out of his ass because that's just bullshit. I also don't want to hear your nonsense about how you have a right to your opinion. I know you have a right to your own opinion, I just don't give a shit about your opinion because you're wrong. 
> 
> Yeah, I said it. That shit is 32 flavors of wrong, period. Not only would I have walked away, I would have kicked him in the balls for that shit.
> 
> I'm not writing a fix-it here, not exactly. Instead this is a moment of sisterhood and solidarity in the aftermath of that flaming turd on a stick they served up. 
> 
> Can you tell I'm unhappy? Because I am. season 3 has been a long slow descent into SUCK and, baby, we're goin' down. Still, I'm determined to teach those not in the know what sisterhood and being a strong woman looks like. 
> 
> So, with no further ado, here's what I would have done if I was writing this thing.
> 
> For BevieSteele who agrees with me that episode 3x12 was bullshit. If anyone disagrees with that then stop reading now because, yup, I don't really give a shit. Of course, if you know me then that really won't come as a surprise. :)
> 
> If you're interested in the song I was listening to that inspired the title, here you go:
> 
>  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2jMQzz3FEFg
> 
> Oh, and due to so many people requesting a continuation of this, despite it being a one-shot, I've formed a series for all my 'fix-it' fics called....wait for it...
> 
> The "Jen is Pissed" Collection
> 
> Let's hope I don't feel the need to post to it often.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> \---Jen

 

 

 

  
    

  

Fuel the Fire, Feed the Pain

By JA Ingram

For BevieSteele because we both agree that what happened in episode 3x12 ‘Uprising’ was some kind of bullshit.

This isn’t a fix-it, but it is an answer to it. Enjoy---Jen

 

She pulled out of the parking lot and just drove.

Oliver was back, he was alive. Felicity should have been over the moon, she should be with him, both of them driving towards her quaint little bungalow, reveling in the fact that they had their second chance, but she wasn’t. There would be no long talks until the sun came up, no confessing of feelings or heady kisses that dissolved into passion; not now, probably not ever. Instead she was alone and driving in the opposite direction of both the club and her flat because she couldn’t stand to look at him for even a second longer.

Hot anger burned down to icy shock as what just happened began to sink in. She was freezing, it was the kind of cold you felt inside your bones. She began to shake as the residual adrenaline from the events of that night burned off in her bloodstream despite the heat that blew from the vents and the coat that was wrapped around her thin shoulders. A sharp pain dug into her stomach and her vision blurred.

The thought occurred to her that maybe she shouldn’t be driving after all but she didn’t stop. She didn’t even know where she was going; just that she needed to go somewhere that wasn’t home. Not ‘home’ as in her bungalow located in the rundown neighborhood of Adam Heights, that was just where she slept; her ‘home’ was the place where she left her heart, torn and bloody, in the filthy back alley behind Verdant.

She followed the flow of traffic in numb silence, finally pulling into Starling General and parking her car next to the BMW she knew belonged to Laurel. Climbing out of her own car, she staggered into the hospital and entered the elevator without speaking to anyone or asking directions. Laurel had texted updates on Ted’s condition to everyone earlier so she didn’t need to.

She made her way up to the ICU waiting room where she caught sight of the brunette who was too busy staring at the silent television in the corner to notice her. The TV was muted but the same scenes were playing over and over; Team Arrow rallying the citizens of the Glades to fight, Oliver delivering his triumphant speech as Brick, bloody and broken, was hauled into a waiting police cruiser.

Asshole, she thought numbly. Not Brick; Oliver.

Brick was a monster but Oliver was an asshole.

“Felicity?”

At the other woman’s sweet tones she sighed, taking in her appearance.

Gorgeous Laurel. Even with dried blood on her face and her eyes red and puffy from exhaustion and worry, she was still gorgeous. Far more than she was, that’s for sure. She felt absolutely wrung out and grungy; the kind of oily feeling of wrongness that came from a sudden shock. It was a combination of cold sweat and salty tears that made her want to curl up in the tub for a few hours as she scrubbed the bitter stench of disappointment from her skin.

“Hi,” Felicity said quietly. “How’s Ted?”

Laurel sniffled and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand as she offered her a tremulous smile. Oh to have that kind of natural grace, Felicity thought enviously. The other woman made even the smallest movement look like some sort of ballet of action and purpose.

“He’s good,” she said, her voice breaking slightly. She inhaled deeply then spoke again, this time in a stronger tone, “They said he has a minor skull fracture but he’ll be fine. Hopefully.”

“Hopefully,” she repeated.

“They’re watching for brain swelling but the doctor thinks it’ll be okay. He’ll still have to be here for a few days at least though,” she took another shaky breath. “Why are you here?”

She didn’t blame her for asking, it’s not like she and Laurel were friends despite their recent cease fire. They were getting along, yes, but they weren’t at the stage where they could hang out in their warm and fuzzies, braiding each other’s hair into white girl cornrows while pigging out on ice cream. She was pretty sure that the world would have to implode before that ever happened but here she was anyway.

She shrugged and sat down beside her, “Just, I don’t know, wound up here, I guess.” She offered her an apologetic look, “I’m sorry; I guess the right answer should be that I was worried about Ted…”

“No, that’s okay,” Laurel said with a small upturn of her lips. “You don’t really know Ted, so…” She closed her eyes for a moment then looked at her gratefully, “Thanks for coming anyway.”

“It’s okay.”

Laurel looked around the waiting room curiously. It was fairly full since a lot of people got hurt tonight, but no deaths had been reported so far. Most people in the waiting area were either trying to get some sleep in the stiff, uncomfortable chairs or messing with their cell phones, trying to find out how their homes and businesses had fared while their loved ones clung to life beyond the ICU’s doors. The lights had been somewhat dimmed so the eerie blue glow of their phones lit their faces ghoulishly but at least it was quiet.

“Where’s Ollie?”

“I don’t know,” Felicity said hollowly, that grinding pain in her stomach causing her to wrap her arms around herself as the cold in her bones dipped to subzero temperatures.

Laurel looked at her in concern, “He’s okay though, right?”

“Yeah,” she said faintly.

“Then why are you here?” she frowned, “You should be with him. I mean, you guys are together now, right?”

“No,” she said quietly, her mouth closing over the word so that the bile working its way up from her stomach wouldn’t erupt out of her along with the bitter words she was desperately trying not give voice to.

Laurel’s brow furrowed in concern, “What happened?” When Felicity didn’t answer her, she stood and pulled at her arm, “Come on.”

Felicity allowed the other woman to lead her into a supply closet down the hall and past the bathrooms. The small room smelled overwhelmingly of the sickly sweet chemical smell of hospital cleanser and the pulpy stench of cheap toilet paper and wax-coated boxes. She forced herself to breathe through her mouth but all that did was make her stomach churn even worse as the rancid taste of it all, chemicals and pain, hit her palate.

“What happened?” Laurel asked again as she shut the door and turned on the light.

“Oliver…” she gasped out his name. She swallowed, “Um, Oliver decided to, um…”

The other woman’s eyes widened slightly, “What?”

“I--,” she said thickly, her voice dropping an octave as the possibility of her getting sick morphed into certainty. “Excuse me,” she said quickly as she shot out of the room and ran into the restroom next door.

She barely made it into the stall before her stomach began to turn itself inside out. She fell to her knees and gagged, over and over again, but nothing came out. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had a decent meal, not even a cup of coffee. Between Oliver’s ‘death’ and the battle for the Glades, she’d been a wreck for almost a month now, catching food on the fly and, even then, only a bite or two at a time.

She waited until the sharp clench of sick abated before sitting back and running her hand over her sweat drenched forehead.

“Are you okay?” She heard the other woman ask through the door.

Felicity looked down to see the other woman’s shoes under the stall.

“Yeah,” she choked out. Shakily she got to her feet. She stumbled past Laurel to the sink and turned on the tap, rinsing out her mouth then spitting it out before splashing water on her face.

“You’re shaking,” Laurel said quietly. Felicity looked into the mirror and saw the brunette staring at her in concern, “When was the last time you ate something?”

Either Laurel was a mind reader or she looked worse than she thought.

“I don’t remember,” Felicity said honestly.

“Me neither,” Laurel told her then glanced at the doors. “Wanna go get something to eat with me?”

“What about Ted?” she asked.

The other woman paused, “The truth is that I can’t really do anything tonight but wait. The only reason I stayed is because, well…I didn’t really want to go home.”

She knew exactly how she felt.

“Let’s go.”

❤◦.¸¸. ◦✿ ❤◦.¸¸. ◦✿ ❤◦.¸¸. ◦✿❤◦.¸¸. ◦✿❤◦.¸¸. ◦✿ ❤◦.¸¸. ◦✿

A while later they were seated in one of the back booths at the Glades Diner which was surprisingly full for a little past three in the morning. With Brick and his goons in jail, people were celebrating being able to be outside of their houses once again. The spirit of triumph hung in the air, despite the cost in terms of broken bones and bullet wounds some paid for that victory, and the Glades were, at least for this one night, safe. No one would dare mug any unfortunate passersby or be tempted to loot any broken storefronts while its citizens still rode the high that came from dishing out a bit of vigilante justice of their own for a change.

Still, even tonight, the Glades weren’t a place for the faint of heart, but the Diner was considered holy ground by its denizens. Even the young gang members and seedy looking characters that filled it were always on their best behavior once they crossed the restaurant’s threshold. No one got rowdy here ever. Even the most hardened criminals kept their voices at a respectable level and their language clean when seated at its counters, knowing that, if they tried anything, the owner would come out from the back of the grill to wop a punk with a frying pan or the old Louisville Slugger he always kept under the cash register.

Felicity was pretty sure Laurel had never been here before, a fact that was confirmed when Mo Bibbowski, the diner’s owner and short order cook, came out to place their food in front of them. When he greeted Felicity by name, Laurel’s eyes grew wide as saucers, taking in the older man’s shaven head and multiple prison tats that chronicled the years he spent behind the bars of Blackgate Prison.

“How often do you come here?” she asked as her eyes followed the older man as he wandered back behind the counter to dish up some more orders.

“Pretty often; Sara used to bring me here sometimes,” Felicity said, breaking the silence as she picked at her greasy sandwich.

“Really?” she asked in surprise.

Felicity nodded, “She used to say that the best way to celebrate a victory or a heartbreak was with plenty of grease and sugar.”

“So I see,” Laurel said as she eyed the deep fried and sugar coated treat dubiously, “What is it?”

“It’s a Monte Cristo.” At the other woman’s blank look, she explained, “It’s a turkey, ham, and Swiss cheese sandwich that’s been dipped in egg batter, deep fried, then dusted in confectioners’ sugar. Some people like making it with doughnuts instead of bread then grilling it in butter, but this is even better; crispier,” she said despite the fact that she had yet to take a single bite. “It’s like having breakfast, lunch, and dessert all in a single bite.”

“Oh my God,” Laurel gaped at it open-mouthed. “I don’t even want to know how many calories are in that thing.”

“A lot,” she said ruefully. “It’s worth it though. It’s number one on my emergency comfort food list.”

“Emergency comfort food list?” the other woman repeated wryly.

“Yeah, you know how when you have a bad day you eat something that makes you feel better like ice cream or chocolate?” Laurel nodded. “Well, there are degrees to comfort food,” Felicity explained. “There’s mint chip ice cream which is, like, way down on the list. That’s my normal day kind of comfort food, but then there are the more extreme days like dealing with the Triad; that’s extra egg rolls with hot mustard and duck sauce. Or realizing that you went from working as an IT department head to becoming Oliver’s EA; that’s pan fried noodles followed by an entire bag of double stuffed fudge dipped Oreos.”

“So being an executive assistant is worse than dealing with the Triad?” the other woman asked with raised eyebrows.

“I went to MIT and have a double masters in Cyber Security and Computer Sciences,” Felicity said flatly, “So, yes, it’s way worse than dealing with the Triad. I’d rather tangle with China White than be relegated to fetching someone’s coffee any day.”

“Noted,” she said sardonically. “So what’s a Monte Cristo then?”

“Nuclear Winter,” she stated morosely as she picked up a knife and cut into the sandwich, releasing a cloud of steam as the cheese pooled on the plate. “It’s me giving up on my diet and having to wear peplum skirts and fat pants for the next two weeks.”

“Here’s to peplum being back in style then.” Laurel picked up her knife and fork and cut into her sandwich as well, “So what happened between you and Ollie? I figured you’d be stuck to him like glue for the next few weeks at least.” She spun her fork in the cheese, wrapping the gooey goodness around its tines before blowing on it then lifting it to her mouth, “Here goes nothing,” she muttered before taking a bite. “Oh my God,” Laurel garbled, her face melting in pleasure.

“Told you,” Felicity said, watching as the other woman’s eyes rolled back in her head.

“How have I not been eating this every day of my life?” Laurel asked, digging in again.

She stared down at her own plate listlessly, “Good, huh?”

“So good,” she agreed then looked at her untouched plate. “Why aren’t you eating?”

“Not much of an appetite, I guess.”

“What did Ollie do this time?” she asked between bites.

Felicity sighed, “He decided to throw in with Merlyn,” she said lifelessly. “He wants him to train him so he can go after Ra’s again.”

Laurel froze for a moment, staring at her in disbelief, “Okay…”

“It’s not okay,” she said sharply. “Nothing about this is okay.”

“No, it’s not,” Laurel agreed as she put down the fork. She looked at Felicity carefully, “That said, I can see where he’s coming from. I mean, I’m not saying I trust Malcolm, but he does know a lot about the League. He could be a useful ally, especially if Ra’s comes back to Starling.”

Felicity narrowed her eyes at that, “You have no idea what you’re--!” She stopped then pressed her lips together as she began to shake with rage once more. “You have no idea what’s going on, Laurel—none,” she said quietly. “If you knew, then you’d never say that; ever!”

“So what is going on?” the other woman asked her.

She averted her eyes, taking a moment to decide how much she should tell her, how much was hers to tell, before saying ‘fuck it’, “Malcolm killed Sara.”

Laurel dropped her fork with a clatter, her eyes going cold, “I asked Oliver point blank about that weeks ago and he said Merlyn didn’t have anything to do with Sara’s death.”

“He didn’t kill her himself,” Felicity explained as she leaned back in her chair, her stomach churning once again with a mixture of disappointment and impotent rage. “He used some kind of drug to force someone else to do it. We only found out about it ourselves just before Oliver left to confront Ra’s.”

“Who? Who did he use to do it?” she demanded.

She met the other woman’s stony countenance, “Thea.”

Laurel shook her head, her eyebrows drawing together, “No.”

“Yes,” she said in a near whisper. “It’s not her fault,” she emphasized. “Not that part anyway.”

“Thea murdered Sara,” Laurel bit out.

“She doesn’t remember,” Felicity told her. “He basically brainwashed her then pointed her at Sara like a loaded weapon just so he could take a video of her doing it.”

Her face paled, “What?”

Felicity nodded slowly, her eyes closing as she took a shaky breath, “He killed Sara in order to blackmail Oliver into challenging Ra’s, otherwise he was going to show it to the League and they’d go after Thea instead.”

“Why didn’t anybody tell me?” Laurel bit out.

“We should’ve,” she confessed. “I think Oliver was afraid that if you found out you’d either go after Thea or challenge Merlyn. If you did that then he’d kill you. Oliver barely managed to escape with his life the last two times they fought, so you wouldn’t have stood a chance.” She looked at her, “Despite having the best of intentions though, we should have told you the truth. I know it doesn’t mean much now, but I’m sorry for keeping that from you. Even if Oliver had a perfectly legitimate reason to be afraid of what you’d do, it should have been your choice to make.”

Laurel sat in the chair across from her, her face flush with anger, as she appeared to take in what she said. “Oliver really thought I’d go after Thea?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did you?”

Felicity took a moment to think about that, “Maybe.”

The other woman nodded, not bothering to deny it, “I can see that,” she said at last. “I was…pretty out of control for a while there.”

“I’m sorry,” she said again.

Laurel blew out a harsh breath, “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” Felicity said firmly. “None of this is okay.”

“No, it’s not,” Laurel agreed. “I can’t say much though since I still haven’t told my dad that Sara’s dead yet.” She closed her eyes with a pained expression, “Mom knows, Ted knows—hell, even Thea knows. I’ve told everyone that Sara’s dead except my dad.” She looked up at her, her eyes weary and bloodshot, “I just…I can’t. I can’t do it. I can’t go through what we went through when the Queen’s Gambit went down; not again. I know I have to tell him soon, that the longer I wait the worse it will be when he finally finds out, but I can’t.”

“That’s just it; he needs to know, Laurel; there are too many secrets being kept here and not enough honesty,” Felicity told her. “That’s all we do now is keep secrets from each other and go off on our own.” She felt her eyes burn with unshed tears, “We’re…it’s all just falling apart and I don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t even know if it’s worth trying to keep the team together anymore.”

“What did Ollie say?” Laurel asked at her pronouncement. “After he said he was going to work with Merlyn, what did he say?”

“Nothing,” she said with a bitter laugh. She shook her head, feeling hot tears run down her cheeks, “He walked in and I just…grabbed him,” she sniffled, reaching for a paper serviette to wipe away her tears. “I squeezed him *so hard* and he just…”

“What?” Laurel asked her carefully.

“Nothing,” she swallowed. “He just let me go and didn’t even look at me. He went straight for Dig and Roy, basically said, ‘Good job, guys’, then told us he was going to be training with Merlyn from here on out. He didn’t even give us a chance to argue; he just told us that’s what was going to happen.”

She nodded slightly, her expression troubled, “What did you do?”

“I left,” she said wincing at the throb of pain in her temple. “I couldn’t even look at him. He followed me into the alley and—“ she chuckled humorlessly, “I told him, *I told him* what he was doing was wrong, that he couldn’t work with the man who hurt Sara, who hurt Thea, and he had the gall to say that I wasn’t really mad because of that. He implied that I was just angry because I thought when he got back things between us would change, that we’d be together as a couple.”

“God, that’s…” She tightened her lips, “Only Ollie could say something that utterly idiotic.”

“I know, right?” she said, wiping her nose on another napkin. “You know, right before he left he told me he loved me,” she chuckled bitterly once more. “He said he only knew two things; one was that he’d do anything to keep Thea safe, and two, that he loved me.”

“What did you say?”

“Then? Nothing,” Felicity admitted. “I was too much in shock to say anything. This time I told him that if being a woman he loved meant being treated like this, that he could keep it. I mean, why am I the only one that can see how utterly sick this is?” she asked her. “Merlyn murdered five hundred and three people; men, women, *kids*! He wiped out entire families!” she burst out. “He killed Tommy, his own son! He blackmailed Moira by threatening both Oliver and Thea, *his daughter*! He sank the boat that killed their father and stranded Oliver on that island, for God’s sake! Roy argued that he saved Thea with no ulterior motives? Seriously? He’s a sick, depraved bastard and, what? We’re supposed to pretend that it’s all okay now because he swooped in to carry Thea off only to be brainwashed? He saved Thea, yeah. He also turned her into a killer, drugged her so she’d murder Sara, then used that to blackmail Oliver into going on a suicide mission just so he could save his own skin!” She took a deep breath, “That son of a bitch ruined my life. I’ve spent the last three weeks dying inside because of everything he’s done,” she said in a broken voice. “I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep, I could barely even function because it hurt to even breathe! I mourned Oliver with everything I had,” she spat. “I cried until I was sick to my stomach. I fantasized over and over again about what I would say to him if he came back. I prayed every night, begged God to take anything, to take me, just bring him back, and the first thing he does is push me away like he couldn’t be bothered. I spent the last month killing myself over him and he just pats me on the back, says he’s okay like it’s no big deal, then announces that, oh, by the way, Merlyn’s on the team now. He didn’t even look at me. He just shoved me aside, like I wasn’t even in the room, and talked to Dig and Roy instead; like I didn’t even matter! Like my opinion didn’t matter! What’s worse is, when I challenged him on that, he had the gall to accuse me of being shallow enough to…” She put her elbows on the table and covered her face with her hands. “I can’t do this anymore, I just can’t. I can’t be the kind of person who puts up with this crap anymore. I am *not* this person!”

Silence reigned between the two women before Laurel spoke.

“I bet you think I’m an idiot, don’t you?” she asked quietly.

Felicity lowered her hands to look at her in confusion, “What?”

“Because I put up with Ollie cheating on me and treating me like crap? I knew he cheated,” she admitted. “I knew he lied to me, that he was using me. He’d go off with other women time and again knowing that I’d take him back because I was a total doormat, but I loved him,” she shrugged. “I can’t explain it. There’s just something so…broken in Ollie. You look at him and you can see that pain and it just makes you want to fix him. I thought I could,” Laurel said with a shake of her head. “People tried telling me over and over how stupid I was being. My ‘friends’ would snicker behind my back and show me evidence of his cheating, embarrass me publically over what he did as if it was my fault. They basically said that if I was a ‘real’ woman then I’d be able to keep him faithful.” She licked her lips, “That’s what it felt like anyway. Whenever he’d cheat on me, it felt like it was my fault. It felt like I failed him in some way, not the other way around, so I tried harder to be the woman he needed me to be. I forgave him, rubbed his head and soothed him while he beat himself up over it. I thought, ‘if I can fix him then we can live happily ever after’,” she said in self-disgust. “I had this image in my head of the way our life would be. I wanted us to get married and live this perfect life where he’d finally get his crap together and we’d both have successful careers while raising our 2.5 kids. I was so stupid,” she said blowing out a harsh breath. “I was twenty-two and thought I knew it all. Newsflash; I didn’t,” she said with a slight upward curve of her lips. “What’s worse is, when he came back, I still slept with him. Despite the fact that he cheated on me with Sara, despite hurting Tommy, I did that. I have no excuse for it either. If I’m being honest here, if Ollie showed me the least bit of interest, I’d probably do it again, but that’s not going to happen.”

Laurel met her gaze, “You asked me once if we were friends; we weren’t,” she admitted. “Not then. I kind of hated you a little in fact.”

“That was fairly obvious after you basically accused me of being Oliver’s bimbo blonde secretary who took his dictation on my knees,” Felicity said wryly.

Laurel frowned, “When was that?”

“It was the night you showed up drunk at Verdant.”

Realization dawned and she blanched, “Sorry; I was pretty out of it.”

“No biggie,” she said dismissively.

“No, I owe you an apology,” she repeated. “That was totally uncalled for and there is no excuse for it. I also owe you an apology for all those times I pretended not to remember your name or was rude. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“What’s done is done,” she told her.

She nodded in acceptance. “The point I’m getting to is that Ollie loves you,” Laurel told her. “He loves you and he has for a while. Even drunk off my ass I could see that.”

“So what are you saying; that I should run back there and apologize for disagreeing with him?” Felicity asked her. “Just accept that Merlyn is part of our lives now and let everything go?”

“Oh, hell no,” Laurel said quickly. “No, that was an asshole move and there is no way we’re letting Merlyn get away with shit! If it had been me I would have knocked Ollie on his ass or worse for even suggesting that! No, I was just going to say that you did the right thing—the hard thing—and you should be proud of that!”

Felicity blinked, “Really?”

“Yes,” she said emphatically. “I wish to God I had that kind of strength back when I was dating him. I should have done like you did and left him the first time!”

“That’s just it, Laurel; he didn’t *cheat* on me, we aren’t ‘dating’,” she said with a touch of anger. “We’re not anything. He not only flat out told me we couldn’t be together; he basically showed me with his actions that he doesn’t even care! Not enough. He doesn’t really care about me, he never even really cared about Sara; all he cares about is this stupid crusade against Ra’s! So much so that he’s willing to sell his soul to the devil, give up on me, this team, his principles; everything, just so he can take down Ra’s al Ghul.”

“You mean something to Ollie, trust me,” she said firmly. “It might not seem like it, but he does love you. If anyone can get through to him it’s you.”

“So I’m supposed to go back to being his personal Jiminy Cricket, whispering to him in one ear as he listens to Malcolm with the other?” she demanded. “Screw that; I’m done,” she said harshly. “I can’t beat Merlyn! He supposedly loved Sara, too, and he’s out there playing happy families with her murderer, for God’s sake! I can’t even get Oliver to--!” She buried her face in her hands. “I can’t…I just…”

“Felicity,” Laurel reached for her hands, pulling them away so she could look at her, “Not too long ago I wanted to quit but you wouldn’t let me.”

She shook her head, “Laurel…”

“No,” she said, cutting her off, “You refused to let me quit even though, let’s face it, I am way out of my depth here,” she said ruefully. “Even though Diggle and Roy were both against me joining the team, you made them accept me. Even though all of us wanted to join forces with Merlyn, you were able to talk us out of it.”

“Not Roy,” she said morosely.

“Roy’s a moron,” Laurel said rolling her eyes. “He’s just a kid who’s as desperate for Thea’s approval as I was for Ollie’s at his age. He’ll just have to learn the hard way how stupid he’s being. The point is that you’re the one in charge of Team Arrow, not Diggle, not Roy, not even Oliver.”

“That’s not true,” she denied.

“It is true,” Laurel said flatly. “After Ollie left and you took some time off, the entire team fell apart. They were completely lost without you and it had nothing to do with your googling or triangulating thing; it was you. Even without Ollie, the team would have survived, but it can’t do that without you.”

“So I’m supposed to stay and work with Merlyn, let Oliver go totally dark, because the team needs me?” she asked her. “I don’t want to be on Malcolm Merlyn’s team, Laurel. If Oliver wants to work with him, fine, but that’s not what I signed up for!”

“I’m not saying that. Stop putting words in my mouth because it’s really starting to piss me off,” Laurel said with a grimace. “No, what I’m saying is that if you can’t change Ollie’s mind by talking to him, then try giving him a time out instead.”

“A time out?” she repeated.

“Yeah, like in kindergarten when the teacher would put you in the corner.”

“I know what a time out is,” she said sarcastically. “I just don’t get the point you’re trying to make.”

“The point that I’m trying to make is that Ollie can go off with Malcolm, fine, but that doesn’t mean he can take us down with him,” she said firmly. “He’s not in charge, you are. Make him realize that, if he does this, he’s on his own.”

“You want me to kick the Arrow off of Team Arrow?” she asked wryly.

“Yeah,” she nodded, “Why not?”

“Roy and Dig will never go along with that,” she said flatly.

“Roy might not but Dig will,” Laurel shrugged. “So will I. Eventually Roy will fall in line because, let’s face it, he’s not exactly the brightest bulb in the batch and either Ollie or Thea is going to wind up pissing him off sooner or later. Either that or Malcolm will. In any case, the team needs you more than they need him and Ollie needs to realize that. Plus, he’s always needed the women in his life to give him their approval. Personally I think it’s because he wasn’t breastfed or something.”

She raised an eyebrow at that, “Seriously.”

“I know how that man’s mind works,” Laurel said ruefully. “I’ve known him for half my life, trust me. If you go back and try to make up with him then he’ll convince himself he was right. If you leave and never go back then he’ll somehow turn it into some kind of noble sacrifice on his part and work it so he’s the victim, you’re the bully, and everything he’s doing is okay. However,” she said pausing for dramatic effect, “If you go back but wall him out, make sure he knows how his decisions affect his status on the team, then that will really hurt him where it counts. Better yet, it might just knock some sense into him.”

“I don’t want to hurt him or wall him out, I just want him to stop,” she said brokenly. “Just stop this madness before it’s too late and he winds up going down a path he can’t ever come back from.”

“Look, it’s your choice,” Laurel said evenly. “I’m not going to ask you to stay if you don’t want to, not with Team Arrow. I do hope you’ll continue to help me though. Let’s face it, I can’t do this without you even if they think they can.”

Felicity laughed at that despite the tears clogging her throat, “You want us to form our own team?”

“Why not?” she shrugged. “It can be me, you, maybe Diggle if we can convince him, and Ted—once he gets out of the hospital anyway.” She took a deep breath, “Just think about it; for Sara.”

“I don’t know,” she smoothed her hand over her hair and closed her eyes, “The truth is I’m scared,” she said at last. “Not of staying or leaving; I’m scared that I’ll do like you said and fail. I’m scared of losing him, of Oliver losing himself.” She opened her eyes to look at the other woman, “What if I can’t bring him back, Laurel? I lost him once, I don’t think I can do it again. I won’t survive it a second time.”

“But you did survive,” Laurel told her. “If Ollie is so far gone that he’s willing to throw in with Malcolm Merlyn, then that’s his choice. He needs to be the one to decide to do the right thing here, not you. Don’t make the same mistakes I did; don’t think you can ‘fix’ him because you can’t. It’s not your job to fix him, it’s his. All you can do is stick to your guns and keep fighting. He has to be the one to bend here, not you. In the meantime, you need to stop worrying about his feelings and worry about your own.”

She absorbed that for a moment then nodded, “Okay,” she said at last. “I’ll stay—for you and Diggle.”

“And Sara,” Laurel added.

“Yeah,” she agreed.

“Sara,” Laurel sighed, “I still have to tell my dad and I have no idea how.”

“He needs to know,” Felicity told her. “You can’t keep this up forever. He has to be allowed to grieve.”

“Tomorrow,” Laurel said, her expression pained. “I can’t face it tonight—not tonight, not after everything we went through with Brick and everything else, but tomorrow. Tomorrow I’ll tell him.”

She nodded, “Okay.”

The two women sat in silence for a few minutes, neither touching their rapidly cooling sandwiches and coffee.

Finally, Laurel spoke.

“What would you have done?” At Felicity’s questioning look, she elaborated, “I mean, if Ollie had come back and said he loved you again, if he hadn’t decided to join up with Malcolm; what would you be doing right now?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “I guess I would have said it back, told him that I loved him.” She looked up at Laurel through a fall of dark lashes, “That’s what hurts the most; I never got to say it because he keeps pushing me away. I’ve spent the last three weeks promising myself that I’d say the words if I ever saw him again and…I’m just so tired of waiting for something that’s never going to happen, you know?”

“I get that,” the other woman nodded. “Been there, done that, bought the t-shirt.” She offered her an ironic smirk, “You don’t have a sister, do you? If you do, keep her away from Ollie. And boats; boats are bad.”

Felicity laughed at that, “That is…so not funny.”

“Made you laugh though,” she grinned, picking up her fork again and taking another bite of her sandwich. “After I’m done with this I’m ordering another, I swear to God.” She gestured at her own untouched plate, “You should eat.”

“I don’t know if I can,” she said staring at her own plate with a grimace.

“You have to eat,” Laurel told her. “You need to keep up your strength if we’re going to do this.”

Felicity reluctantly lifted her fork and began eating again, “I want you to know, even if I can’t say it to him, that I really am glad Oliver’s back. Even if he never so much as talks to me again, I’m…not happy, but I'm grateful for that at least.”

“I know,” Laurel said quietly.

“I just…I just wish…”

“That he had come back without his head up his ass?” the other woman asked wryly.

“Yeah.”

“You aren’t the only one,” she chuckled. “He’s such an idiot.”

“He really is,” Felicity said roundly, “A complete and utter idiot.”

“A gorgeous idiot though,” Laurel said with a grin.

“He does know how to rock an eight pack,” Felicity agreed.

The women exchanged amused looks before Laurel spoke up, “Remember how you asked if we were friends?”

“Yeah?”

“I think we could be,” Laurel told her, “If you wanted to be anyway.”

“I’d like that,” Felicity said with a slight nod. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.” She looked up at her again, “After we burst Ollie’s bubble, you are going to help me take down Malcolm, right?”

“Absolutely.”

**Author's Note:**

> I know what you're saying right now and, no, I have not become a Laurel fan--not yet, but I'm getting there. This is me making do as best I can with what I have. If I'm going to be stuck with Laurel, then I'm going to write her the way she should be written and not like these assholes who keep shoving her down our throats write her. And right now I'm pissed at Oliver so she's the lesser of two evils.
> 
> Who ever thought we'd see the day when that would happen, huh? Can we just start this season over with better writers already? Fuck.
> 
> Oh, and I had at least one little cutie go off on me and a few others dress me down, albeit relatively nicely, for my opening rant. Newsflash; this whole thing was a rant, just in prose form, hence the 'Jen is Pissed' thing. There's a reason fanfiction exists and it's usually because somebody fucked up somewhere. If what I said pisses you off, then show me I'm wrong by writing your own version then dedicate it to me so I get to see the error of my ways.
> 
> Another thing, and I'm adding this the morning of the season 4 premiere which is set to be the culmination of every wet dream of every Olicity fan everywhere, season 3 was, and still is, bullshit, and I would've rathered had them put off Olicity a little longer and spent more time developing the storyline with Ra's then handing Oliver and Felicity to us on a silver platter because all they're doing is making me wonder when the other shoe is going to drop. I'm scared, folks; I'm worried about Felicity and her chances of surviving the season and so should you. Even if she does, that whole thing was mishandled from the get-go and, if you disagree with me, that's your right but that's just how I feel. 
> 
> We'll see what happens but they really need to get their heads out of their asses and get on the ball with the sisterhood because anyone who puts up with that catfight shit is an idiot. I'm glad they started making Laurel and Felicity get along but they need to keep developing it and give it context and they need to break the whole 'Oliver takes one step forward, two steps back' pattern. I'm getting really tired of it and so should you. 
> 
> Anyway, keep your fingers crossed. I'm almost scared to see what happens tonight but at least I won't be alone in that, right?
> 
> \---Jen


End file.
